


Better Living Through Waffles

by NeoVenus22



Category: Dead Like Me
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-19
Updated: 2009-12-19
Packaged: 2017-10-04 15:24:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeoVenus22/pseuds/NeoVenus22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dolores Herbig had heard lovely things about Der Waffle Haus.  Too bad the patronage wasn't quite up to par.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better Living Through Waffles

Contrary to appearance, Dolores Herbig was not in love with kitschy theme restaurants. There was something about the cutesy Germanic references and the oompah music vibrating in her temple that offended all of her delicate sensibilities. But she heard tell through channels of office gossip that the Banana Bonanzas served here were something of legend, and as college would attest, Dolores Herbig would try anything once. Still, though she found him offensive, she somewhat agreed with the young British man sitting in the booth by the bar and announcing loudly, "Der _fucking_ Waffle Haus!"

Actually, forget offensive, she almost found him... familiar. She was just about to crane her neck out of her lonely window booth to do some crafty reconnaissance, when the waitress stepped in her line of sight, pen poised, pad at the ready, eyes tired, smile in place. "You ready to order?" she asked.

Dolores had had a few minutes to look over the menu, which was only sticky in the corners, and had a selection of celebrity-themed breakfast items. She had to admit, breakfast at all hours of the day was an appealing taboo. She felt deliciously like she was breaking a rule. Dolores had given up the rule-breaking life long ago, but she decided this was an acceptable side road that wouldn't lead her back to her dangerous ways.

"I think so," she answered the question. She snapped the menu shut, and her eyes landed on the battered, askew white nameplate above the waitress's pocket. "Kiffany?" she said, and her mouth delighted in forming the word. "That's an unusual name." Dolores collected names the same way she collected uncommon skeins of yarn, with relish. She thrilled in uncommon and offbeat. "Kiffany. Kiffany. I love it. What does it mean?"

"Not sure. I think my mother just liked the sound."

"Like Tiffany, but not."

"Right."

Dolores leaned back in the booth, satisfied. "Well, my compliments to your mother."

Kiffany, she of the unusual name, smiled. "Are you ready to order, or would you like another minute?" she said kindly.

"I think I'll have a Banana Bonanza," Dolores said, handing the menu back to Kiffany, right side up.

"Would you like coffee with that?"

"Yes, please!" Dolores checked off the 'exceptional service' box in her mental checklist of restaurant quality, though with another burst of profanity from the British man, she was forced to mark the 'questionable patronage' box. She supposed that with the lure of breakfast all day, the place was a host to winos just as easily as families.

Kiffany poured Dolores a hot cup o' joe, then retreated to the table by the bar and exchanged some words with the people there. Dolores could only see the back of a man's head, the Brit, nodding to a nonexistent beat, and fidgeting like a Chihuahua. Dolores thought she recognized some of the symptoms of heavy drug withdrawal, but she didn't recollect heavy profanity being one of them. At least, not in her experience.

In sharp contrast, the lunch companion sitting across from him was a prim blond woman. She arranged herself in a flattering position and batted her eyes at Kiffany as she murmured what Dolores could only hope were apologies for her foul-mouthed friend. Dolores took a swallow of her hot coffee, along with swallowing down her bile at the dislike she felt towards the blond. She tried to make it a habit of liking everyone, yet she couldn't help recognize the woman's type. She was overambitious but lazy, the office slut who did whatever and whomever she wanted to get ahead. The sort who relied heavily on her looks and sexuality, and only used her brains for manipulation. Dolores had been passed over for promotion in favor of women like that, although she tried not to let it get to her.

The blond had caught her staring, and glared at Dolores with the same dead-eyed stare Crystal always used if one interrupted her afternoon solitaire game. The blond muttered something to her British companion, who turned around and craned his neck to look in Dolores's direction. When he met her eyes, his own bugged comically, and he whipped back around, sinking down in his seat. Dolores didn't know what to make of this bizarre display, but mostly she was struck by the tingle of déjà vu. She knew that face; she had seen that man before.

Dolores made a split-second decision, and already had her palms on the table to get up and go over to the couple, when Kiffany came back, blocking Dolores's exit with a plate of tropical-scented pancakes. "One Banana Bonanza," she said, and Dolores was so floored it was all she could do to mark 'speedy service' in her mental checklist.

"I don't mean to be nosy," Dolores said apologetically, "but is there something wrong with that young gentleman?" She gestured over at the couple's booth. The Brit was hunkered down in his seat, and cast not-so-surreptitious glances in Dolores's direction every six seconds. Der Waffle Haus was not so crowded as to block the sibilant sound of the blond hissing instructions at her companion, no doubt a warning to stop behaving so peculiarly.

Kiffany looked over, then returned her attention to Dolores with a world-weary expression. "I've been asking myself that for years. More coffee?"

Dolores let Kiffany fill the remainder of her mug, and found that the bitter coffee was a sharp contrast to the sweetness of her breakfast concoction. Unusual menu with unusual dishes, she mentally scripted as she ate, and wondered if she should put a synopsis up on her website. Friendly and courteous wait staff, very attentive.

As she was finishing the end of her meal, the couple at the far booth started making their way towards the door. The Brit held his hand up, using the scruffy-looking driving glove to shield his face from her view. The blond moved hastily behind, her hands on his shoulders, pushing him towards the door. "You're drawing attention to yourself," she muttered.

"Shut _up_, Daisy," said the Brit, then made a soft whooping sound as he finally passed Dolores's table. She shook her head in quiet amazement, wondering how utterly lacking in dignity or common sense he was to come out in public when he was so obviously 'toasted'. Shaking her head for the shame of it all, Dolores licked the last of the syrup off her fork. When she lifted her head again, Kiffany had moved into the gap where the couple had been.

"Are all of your customers quite so peculiar?" Dolores queried.

"Good food attracts any number of unusual people," Kiffany said. "Anything else?"

"You know something," said Dolores, touching Kiffany's wrist lightly, because she understood that mild physical contact helped develop a good rapport between two people meeting for the first time, "the food is so good, I think I'm actually stuffed. I haven't been stuffed in ages!"

Kiffany smiled and nodded her head with efficiency. She lay the check facedown on the table. "Have a nice day."

"Why, thank you. You have a nice day, too, Kiffany."

What delightful people, Dolores thought, rifling through her purse for the money. She'd spent years in this city, without ever setting foot in this establishment, and it had turned out to be a pleasant surprise. It just went to show, wonderful things were lurking around every corner. She left a sizeable gratuity, with the conviction that she would most certainly return to Der Waffle Haus and sample more of the menu. Even the oompah music was beginning to sound good, and she had a bounce in her step as she returned to Happy Time.

Millie was leaning over Crystal's desk when Dolores came off the elevator, perched up on her tippy-toes so she could bend over the counter and peer at something on Crystal's computer. Dolores was in too good a mood to make her usual point about 'when the cat's away, the mice will play.' Instead, she announced, "I just had the most wonderful lunch, at this adorable little restaurant!" She felt a slight bit of satisfaction when Millie jerked straight and brushed wrinkles out of the front of her blouse.

"That's... terrific, Dolores," said Millie. Crystal, of course, said nothing.

"This little gem called Der Waffle Haus," Dolores continued excitedly. She was thinking of scheduling a little corporate get-together there, for all of her favorite faces at the office.

"Uh," said Millie, who looked absolutely stricken.

"Have you ever been there?" Dolores asked.

"Just once." Millie blanched, although she was usually a shade paler than what Dolores considered healthy, anyway. "Um, right before a guy got killed. By a falling sign. It was horrible."

"Oh dear," said Dolores, and felt her delicious breakfast-lunch turn over in her gut. Her happy feeling was starting to fade as she imagined carnage and gore splattering the walls of the cheesy but charming establishment. "That is horrible."

"Yeah," said Millie. She nodded rapidly, then quickly switched to a shake. "I could never go back after that."

"You poor thing. I can see how you wouldn't want to." Her stomach churned. "I'm not sure I can go back now, either."

"I wouldn't," Millie agreed, with another firm nod. She patted Dolores's shoulder consolingly, her voice low and serious. "It's for the best."

As she watched Millie return to her desk, Dolores thought of the waffles sitting heavily in her belly and wondered , not for the first time, if she had become the butt of a cosmic joke.


End file.
